


Ecstasy

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Points of View
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-18
Updated: 2006-10-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Another product of writer's block. Justin considers Brian's influence. --July 6, 2002





	Ecstasy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

People say Brian is a bad influence on me, and they're probably right. There's a lot of stuff that I've done with Brian that I would never have done with anyone else. I mean, can you picture Michael having a threesome? Me neither. I could have met a hundred guys who would have given me white-bread, picket-fence fantasies about being gay, but I didn't. I met Brian.

Right from the very beginning, Brian was no-holds-barred about his life and what we were going to do. I chose to be along for the ride; he never pushed, it was always my choice. After a couple of weeks, following along became automatic and I didn't really think about whether or not I wanted to do what he was doing.

I didn't even know what he'd given me, at first. We were dancing at Babylon, and the little white pill appeared on his tongue like magic, just like I'd seen him do with Michael a couple of weeks before. I let him give it to me. I probably would have taken anything out of his mouth then, but that was before I knew that playing "Brian Kinney's Pharmaceutical Roulette" wasn't exactly my kind of game. This was the very first time he had actually offered me anything, and I was too excited to say no.

We danced for a while, got a drink, walked around. Nothing was happening, and I was disappointed. I didn't say anything, just followed him around waiting for some magic to happen. We danced a lot, and it felt good. Brian wanted to get another drink, but I was still waiting for something to happen, so I went and danced some more. And then more. My body was throbbing with the beat and my hair was wet with sweat, but all I wanted to do was dance and bounce and wait to get high.

Brian came and snaked his hand around my waist from behind, and every inch of the skin that he touched started to tingle, like fireworks inside my body. He spun me around to look into my eyes, and laughed. "Yeah, you're done," he said, laying his other hand against my cheek. "Let's get some water for you, you're burning up."

I didn't feel like I was burning up. It felt like my nerves were pulsing with the beat of the music. The lights seemed to be synchronized with my blood stream, every flash making my heart thump in my chest. My clothes were rubbing me in places I never noticed before, my neck, my waist, and I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Brian just kept pushing me towards the bar, and it felt like an electric charge every time his hand touched my back.

"Drink this. All of it," he said, handing me the bottle of water. It tasted good, so clean and thick that it all went down in one gulp. He handed me another one, and I drank it more slowly, marveling at how it felt like liquid ice was running down my throat. He was watching me the whole time, I guess, but I wasn't conscious of anything except how I felt.

"Let's get out of here, Tigger," he chuckled, teasing me about the fact that I was still bouncing with the music. I hadn't noticed. He put his hand on the back of my neck to steer me towards the door, and I spun in his grasp, grabbing at him to bring him closer. I needed him to be closer, to be on me, in me.

"Take me home," I panted, my voice coming out high and strangled. "I need you tonight."

He laughed and pointed me towards the door. "If you want to go home, then we have to leave first." He gave me a little shove and I practically ran to the door.

He stopped outside to light a cigarette and I couldn't help myself. I had to touch him, had to get next to him and feel his body against mine. The beat of the music was still in my blood, and I could feel it pulsing, pulsing. He took a couple of drags off his smoke and grabbed for my hand. "Follow me."

He could have led me straight to hell, and I'd have followed, but hadn't ever walked anywhere except the diner before. "This isn't the way to the diner?" I mentioned, watching my feet hit the pavement one after the other. It was rhythmic and soothing.

"We're taking a field trip," he said conspiratorially. We twisted and turned through back alleys and side streets until we ended up in somebody's grassy backyard. "Here."

I looked around. It was an okay yard, kind of small but full of plants and trees. The fence wasn't high, so he hopped over it and waited while I did the same. I almost landed flat on my face, surprised at the feelings that just jumping a fence could elicit - the ridges and dents of the top fence board, how the paint was cool from the night air but the wood reflected my body heat. Going up and over felt so strange, like I'd broken gravity and would just keep flying up into the sky if he didn't catch me. Thank God he caught me.

Even his eyes were smiling at me by now, I guess he thought I was pretty funny. I don't remember any of that. I remember the smell of his leather jacket, and feeling that smooth stiffness against my skin. I slid down his body and sank to my knees, feeling my blood racing and wanting to do the same for him. He pushed me back just a little bit so that he could join me on the grass, saying something like, "Gotta stay below the fence line."

Whatever. I wanted him in my mouth. Everything I touched was an aphrodisiac. I took off my shirt, unable to stay dressed and feel the cotton gliding against my neck. Everything was too good. The grass was damp with dew and every bead was a shock to my system. His jeans, I could talk for days about them, the denim that was somehow hot and cold at the same time. His skin, my god, his skin was warm and alive and I thought I could feel the blood just under the surface. Maybe I've pulled off his clothes faster since then, but I don't think so. Right then, I needed to feel his skin against mine like I need to breathe.

I pushed him flat on the ground and laid my head on his stomach, wanting to feel more than just his cock sliding into my mouth. My mouth felt full of him, as I ran my tongue over his head and down the vein on the underside. It was fine, but I wanted more, no I needed more contact, and I really wasn't content to just have him in my mouth. I wrapped my hand around his dick and pumped while I begged for more.

"Please fuck me, Brian, I need you inside me. Please?" I crawled up to his face and laid flat on top of him, practically shoving my tongue down his throat in my urgency. He ground his hips against me, and feeling the friction of his skin sliding on mine was more than I could bear. I had been trying to sort of keep it together, to keep some appearance of coolness, but I couldn't handle the feeling of his skin against mine. Happily resigned to the fact that I was now Brian's whore, I pulled away just an inch above his lips to repeat my plea. "God, Brian, please, fuck me, I need you so bad. Please lay me down and shove your dick up my ass…"

I think I would have kept begging all night if he didn't flip me over and start scrambling in his jeans for a condom. The shock of landing on the wet grass with my whole back was unexpected, and I thought I could feel every wet blade under my ass. He paused for a minute, as I was breathing heavily, spread out on the grass waiting to be fucked. I felt…wait, there's a word for it…wanton. Like a courtesan must have felt hundreds of years ago, that what I did during the day was only a warm-up for this moment of anticipation. I felt like nothing I'd ever done in my life was as important and mind-blowing as what I was about to do.

I heard him spit on his fingers, and sort of laughed to myself that for once, Brian Kinney, sexual Boy Scout, was sort of unprepared. I stopped laughing when he just shoved a couple of fingers inside of me, but it wasn't that I wasn't amused any more, I just couldn't hold a coherent thought. The new feeling of being stretched and filled was startling on top of everything else I was experiencing, and I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. His fingers were bumping and sliding around inside me, and all the blood that wasn't already in my cock rushed straight to my head. It was good, but not the same as being filled and fucked, and that's what I wanted. I tried to tell him to fuck me, but all I could do was make this high keening noise, something between a grunt and a scream. He bent his head towards me, a smile on his face.

"You ready?" He peered into my eyes, which I'd opened when he spoke. I was writhing and moaning underneath him, and I guess he saw what he wanted to see. "Yeah, you're ready." He thrust his cock right into me without stopping to let me adjust, which was fine with me. At that point, you could have cut off my hands and it wouldn't have hurt, so the little pinch I still felt sometimes was quickly forgotten. All I felt was the friction, that awesome pressing and sliding feeling that I can't get enough of.

He pulled me up onto his knees, so I was almost straddling him, and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. Every heartbeat echoed through my body - from my chest, down my nerves, to my fingers and toes and cock. I could feel his pulse through his chest, or maybe his dick, I'm not sure. It was the same beat and I felt so connected. The stars were bright and the air was cold and green and when we came, I saw white lights in front of my eyes. All that shit about seeing fireworks is true, you just have to be high to see them.

Things get fuzzy from there. He went to lay me back down, but I was getting cold and decided to just get dressed instead. My clothes didn't feel like sensual caresses anymore, now they felt rough and damp, like wet burlap. I was shivering when he put his jacket around my shoulders.

"You okay?" he said, and I think he was a little bit worried.

I had been all lit up before, but now I felt tired and cold and sort of nauseous. "I want to go to bed. I don't feel so hot now."

"Yeah, it'll do that sometimes," he said, taking me into his arms and rubbing my back through the jacket. "You can go in the back door, nobody will see you."

I looked to where he was pointing, and it was only then that I realized we were in Deb's backyard. He'd taken me home all right, and I would have been disappointed if I wasn't so tired and thirsty.

"Thank you," I whispered into his shoulder.

"Glad you liked it." He stepped back and smiled at me, then leaned back in to kiss the top of my head. "Now go to bed." I wanted to argue, but the thought of being warm and clean in my bed was too good to pass up. I went.

We've done it a million times since then, when we're both high, and on lots of different drugs, but that time was special. He babysat for me - he made sure it was good, and that I'd come down in a safe place. He seems to like being there for my first times…and I like having him there. It couldn't have been any better.


End file.
